


Off the Edge of the Map

by threnoidia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Native American Mythology - Freeform, Old Fashioned Hunt, Violence, casefic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threnoidia/pseuds/threnoidia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are on a hunt in a Virginian forest when things go more horribly wrong than usual. Dean has to find Sam before its too late and finds an extremely unlikely ally in supernatural form. A casefic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Author Note

Hey there! I was toying with the idea of the boys hunting something in a forest and it turned into this. Hope you enjoy and would love comments on canon voice, setting and anything else you can think of. Just dabbling really. **Can also be found on FF.net**  


Dean Winchester hurtled through the woods of Virginia. His lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he couldn't stop. There was no way he was going to give up on his brother. Surely it couldn't have dragged Sam too far away in the short time Dean had been gone. His Maglite pierced the dim forest, the spear of light jabbing at tree trunks, thick undergrowth and the barely-there track Dean was following. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to show him which way his brother had been taken. But at least there was no blood.

'Dammit, Sammy,' he rasped between gasped breaths, 'Why'd you forget the map.'

Three days previous Dean had found a voicemail message from an old pal hunter of their Dad's. The hunt seemed easy enough: track the creature to its lair, plant a few explosives, and send it to kingdom come before it could snag a second human snack. Except that Sam had left the map of the nature reserve in the Impala… The Maglite shivered through the forest ahead, bouncing around with each of Dean's lengthy strides. He strained to see any sign of either his brother, or the beast. Anything that would make him certain he was going the right way. If he had remembered wrong, that the caverns weren't to the south, then he had little hope of reaching Sam in time.

Something glittered on the path just in reach of the artificial light. Dean recognised the glare of animalistic eyes moments before they blinked and vanished. He hefted the sawn-off shotgun in his free hand and pushed on, confident now that even without the map he knew where he was headed. Native Americans had seen these things long before white man. Choctaw mythology named them Nalusa Falaya – literal translation: long black being. This one had settled in close to a town and murdered a local police officer. The reports said, "bear" but the Winchesters knew better; six small holes in the chest didn't come from any grizzly.

Dean saw the eyes gleaming again seconds before the thing slammed into him. He went down, tumbling over the leafy soil like a child's discarded ragdoll. All the breath was driven out of him as his body collided with a trunk. Crumpled at the base of the tree, Dean sucked in air. Eerie yipping came from the dark. The Maglite had been smashed to pieces. Moonlight filtering down through the canopy cast a pale silver shine on everything, but it was barely enough for Dean to see in. His blood ran cold when he realised light wasn't the only thing he was missing. The shotgun had fallen from his hand as he had been sent sprawling, and now he had no idea where it might be. Dean drew the knife from his belt and swallowed hard. 

'If you've hurt, Sammy,' he shouted hoarsely, 'You'll wish hell spawn like you never even existed!'

His only response was sudden silence. That unsettled Dean more than reflective eyes or creepy noises. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. His right elbow felt sticky and he knew he was bleeding. As far as he was concerned it was just a scrape. If you weren't gonna die from it, there was no use in any worry.

'Sam!' he yelled into the dimness. 'I'm comin' for you!'

His words were swallowed by the forest. A distant movement caught his attention. His eyebrows drew together in a frown. A pale blue glow was floating just off the ground, dancing in a non-existent breeze. Dean took a step forward, raising his knife with whitened knuckles. The blue glow gracefully ascended, levelling itself with Dean's height. The hunter was suddenly conscious of his heart thudding against his ribs. He stumbled, light-headed, and reached out for a tree to lean against. His hand touched coarse fur. Instantly, Dean swiped with the knife. He caught nothing but air. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he strained to make out any shapes in the gloom. Whatever his hand had hit was gone.

He blinked rapidly as a thousand hissing voices seemed to fill his head at once. They were all saying his name, all asking him to come nearer – to hold them. His attention swam back to the blue glow as if he was deep in a dream. The knife fell from his fingers. Dean stepped toward the light, a genuine smile curving the corners of his mouth. A sense of warmth had washed over him, promising him safety and comfort. The little blue glow glided closer until it was inches from his nose. As he reached up to touch it, searing white light flooded his vision. From far away he heard his own voice crying out in pain. Then black enveloped him and he knew nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam tasted blood. He opened his eyes on a world of shadows and pockmarked rock. As senses came filtering back, Sam decided that if a truck had hit him at full speed he probably would have hurt less. A groan pried chapped lips open as the hunter tilted his head back against the cold stone. His head pounded as if a thousand Impalas were revving up at once.

After a few moments of simply breathing, Sam realised the uneven natural walls reached high above on all sides. It struck him that he was sitting in some kind of water-carved oubliette, at least twelve feet below level ground. He scanned the edges of his prison, trying to understand where exactly he had found himself. Small pinpricks of light reached through holes in the rock, which was where the dim sunshine was coming from and why he could see reasonably well. It seemed that the oubliette's circular rim was surrounded by what Sam guessed was some sort of cavern.

That's when it all came rushing back.

He'd been standing in the forest with a Maglite and his pistol, the pearl inset grip cold against his fingers. Dean had gone back for a map of the nature reserve after they both realised neither of them had grabbed it from the front seat. Without it, there was little hope of them finding the caverns, let alone setting the charges before dawn. Sam had been shuffling from side to side, trying to keep warm. Every time he exhaled, pale clouds billowed from his nose. Time seemed to drag on. A distant owl screech made him jump slightly; though he wouldn't admit it, forests were pretty creepy alone at night.

Then he'd heard a stick crack and had half-turned to shoot a jibe at his brother about taking so long. Sam had seen the gleaming eyes, raised the pistol, loosed a shot and… Had he missed? He assumed he had, since the dark shape had darted forward and slammed straight into his gut. He'd ended up on his arse in the dirt, fumbling with the pistol and trying to see where it had gone. There had been the unearthly cry that sent shivers down Sam's spine, and then he hazily recalled being struck by something hefty and solid. The Nalusa Falaya had knocked him unconscious. Feeling the cold stone beneath his hands, Sam realised the monster must have dragged him here.

For what reason, he didn't know. The creatures were pretty rare and hard to track. They were a sort of human-dog-monkey hybrid, covered in a coarse black pelt with large ears and a pointed muzzle. Their long tails were fluffy like a squirrel's and they could climb trees like primates. Fast and big, Nalusa Falaya weren't fun to mess with. Sam slightly shook his head, trying to rid his mind of persistent fog. He needed to think, needed to plan. It wasn't hard to guess that the monster had gone back out into the forest to find his brother. Sam just hoped the beast had trapped Dean somewhere too, and not…

No, that didn't bear thinking about.

'Right, what do you know?' he asked himself aloud, his voice bouncing eerily around the stone pit. 'This must be the caverns we were told about.' He sluggishly counted the facts off on his fingers. 'And it's daylight, so I must've been out for at least five hours. The thing probably hunted Dean, and he wouldn't have been able to take it down by himself. It doesn't eat as soon as it captures – so that's gotta be good. And …' He gazed upward, frowning. 'I'm stuck down a hole – which is definitely the opposite of good.'

Scuffling sounds came from somewhere near the edge of the pit, way over Sam's head. Shakily, he got to his feet and curled his hands into fists. Everything in him screamed for him to run, knowing his body was too weak to fight any kind of threat, but there was nowhere to go.

'Sammy?'

He nearly passed out from both relief and shock when he heard his brother's voice. 'Dean! I'm down here!'

Dean's short spiked hair was followed by green eyes and an apprehensively twisted mouth. The hunter peered down over the rim of the pit. 'Pity I ain't Rapunzel,' he called down. 'I could just throw my hair at you for a rope.'

His tone was light, but Sam knew the joke was just trying to cover Dean's anxiety. 'Do you know where it is?' There wasn't time for his brother's usual bs. If the monster came back, Dean would be in huge trouble. There was reason the plan had been explosives and not just silver bullets. Going in swinging was a tactic that failed on Nalusa Falaya.

Dean glanced over his shoulder. 'Dunno. I just woke up a couple minutes ago and thought I heard a voice.' He glanced around the bottom of the pit where his brother sat and raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'Were you talkin' to yourself?'

Sam ignored him. 'Look, Dean, we both know it's gonna come back. You gotta get out of here before that happens.'

The words left Dean's lips automatically. 'I ain't leavin' you.'

They both froze at the sound of the unearthly screech resounding through the cavern system.

'God dammit, Dean, run!'


	3. Chapter 3

The unnerving cry of the beast they had initially planned to hunt plunged through the tunnel. Dean's breath hitched in his chest as he spun around. His gun was gone and the bowie knife hadn't been in his hand when he came to. Without a weapon, he was monster chow.

'God Damnit, Dean, run!' Sam's voice echoed up from the pit.

'Son of a bitch!' Dean glanced around the cavern, mind racing, trying desperately to play out a scene where Sam wouldn't get hurt. He stared at the tunnel from where the Nalusa Falaya would inevitably explode in a matter of minutes, realizing there was no escape. It was as if his heart had frozen completely in his chest. He opened his mouth to say all the things he needed Sam to know.

Then his gaze snagged on a thin, dark gap in the stone about two feet from the main tunnel. Dean felt his heart start pounding again.

'Dean, get out of here!' The urgency in Sam's voice made Dean grit his teeth.

'Look, try and find a way out. I'm gonna –'

It howled as it burst into the underground room. A blur of yellowed fangs, thick black fur and crazed eyes careered right toward Dean. The hunter bodily threw himself clear. The monster scrabbled for purchase at the edge of the natural oubliette, six sharp spines rising on its skeletal back.

Dean's eyes widened at the thought of the savage killer trapped with Sam. It would tear him to pieces in seconds; Sam wouldn't even have a chance. But the Nalusa Falaya swiftly turned away from the pit and fixed its canine eyes on the shorter brother. Dean let out a sigh of relief that the thing hadn't noticed Sam. And then the situation hit him and he started running at full pelt.

'Come and get me, bitch!' he flung over his shoulder. Sliding hurriedly through the shaft in the rock, he found himself in a skinny stone hallway. Dean bent almost in half to prevent scraping his head on the roof, at the same time trying to peer ahead through the gloom.

Claws scrabbling on rock echoed everywhere around him. It was in the tunnel. Dean pushed himself faster, ignoring the ache that roared through his whole body. A twist in the tunnel loomed suddenly out of the shadows. Just before he came face to face with extremely hard stone he turned his shoulder into it.

A shard of rock slammed straight into his flesh, piercing his left shoulder as if someone had smashed it in with a sledgehammer. Dean's strangled cry was answered by the pursuing monster's own horrible screech. Clutching his wound with one hand, Dean stumbled onward, all too aware that the Nalusa Falaya was quickly gaining ground.

The blood was warm as it trickled over his fingers. He shook his head once to clear it and tried to focus. The tunnel seemed to swoop higher at a slow pace; gradually the ceiling became high enough for him to run upright. Dean knew that up meant level ground – meant sunlight and forest and far less possible dead ends.

A mix between a mournful wolf howl and a human baby wailing, the Nalusa Falaya bayed again. It would catch him up eventually; there was no doubt in him of that. But there was hope that he could give Sam enough time. If his brother could get out of the pit and off the reserve, then Dean would have kept his most significant promise. All that mattered was that Sammy got out of this alive.

Sunlight almost blinded him as Dean turned another corner and found the tunnel flooded with light. The hissing and scratching behind him became more frantic, as if the beast knew its prey was on the verge of escaping the stone warrens beneath the hill.

Dean felt a sense of unease lift from his shoulders as he reached the ending of the closed in tunnels. One shoe crunched on leaves and twigs, just beyond where the rock petered out. And then he was falling forward.

Claws met in his ankle and dragged his leg out from beneath him. A mix of a shout and a grunt rushed from Dean's lips as he slammed into the ground. Chittering sent an icy shock through his veins; he realised the monster had caught him up. He would die with his body literally halfway to freedom.


End file.
